Wind howled around the small rocky island with the force of a thousand screaming dragons. It battered at the three on the cliff as if trying to tear off their wings.

One dragon was black as night, one red as flames, and one as pale as desert sand.

“Why did you bring me here?” Kestrel shouted, digging her claws into gaps in the rock. The wind seized her voice and threw it away.

Morrowseer ignored her. He stepped closer to the SandWing, their heads sheltered by their wings so they could hear each other.

“Trust me, you’re the one,” he said. “Burn and Blaze are the two who will die. We have chosen you to be the SandWing queen.” Surf roared at the base of the cliff below them.

Blister regarded him with glittering black eyes. She was smaller than Burn, with a long, cunning face and a black diamond pattern running down her spine. She had an eerie stillness about her, like a venomous snake about to strike. Unlike her sisters she had no scars. She was much too clever to do any of the fighting herself.

“And the dragonets will make this happen,” she said. “The same dragonets who are now wandering loose around the countryside.”

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Morrowseer promised. “It’s better this way. Once the word gets out, everyone will be watching for them … waiting for the prophecy to come true at last.”

“What if they have their own ideas about who should be queen?” Blister asked.

“They won’t. Besides” — Morrowseer spread his wings so the star scales caught the moonlight — “the NightWing dragonet has his orders now. He knows what he’s supposed to do.”

“What?” Kestrel yelled. “What are you saying?” She tried to crowd in closer, but the other two dragons spoke as if she wasn’t there.

“I like that,” Blister mused. “A traitor in their midst. Tear them apart from the inside. My kind of plan.”

“We’re good at those,” Morrowseer said. A blast of wind buffeted the sea against the rocks and yanked at the dragons’ tails. Thunder rumbled behind the thick clouds in the distance. “But we expect what we were promised.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she said, running her forked tongue over her teeth. “Tell me, does your magic vision tell you where the dragonets will go next?”

Morrowseer looked at her sourly. “That’s not how it works,” he said.

Blister looked amused. “Well, let’s hope it’s to the SeaWings, then,” she said. “And her? This is the trouble?” She tossed her head at Kestrel.

Kestrel caught the last question. “Yes,” she roared. “Why am I here? Morrowseer, you said the dragonets were in danger.”

“And you came running,” he said. “Well, of course they’re in danger. More than they know. But you’re really here because you failed me.”

Kestrel blinked her orange-yellow eyes and took a step back, glaring at him. “I failed you?” she growled. “I work for the Talons of Peace, not the NightWings. They can talk to me if they’ve got complaints. I kept those brats alive, like I was supposed to.”

“But they don’t need you anymore,” Morrowseer said. “And neither do we.”

Blister’s claws ripped across Kestrel’s throat before she could scream. Kestrel clutched at the blood pouring from her neck and staggered back, pummeled by the wind. Blister took another step and stabbed Kestrel in the heart with her poisonous tail.

The SkyWing collapsed to the rocks, thrashing in agony. Her mouth opened to scream curses or breathe fire at her murderers, but only dark red blood bubbled out.

Morrowseer glanced down at her, then reached out with one talon and nudged her body over the edge of the cliff. The wind caught her splayed wings and tossed her against the rocks until it got bored and dropped her in the ocean. The sound of the splash didn’t carry to the top of the cliff, where the other two dragons continued as if nothing had happened.

“There’s one more,” Morrowseer said. “A SeaWing named Webs. If he made it out of the mountain, he’ll be looking for them, too. We need him dead before the rest of the plan will work.”

“Not a problem,” Blister said again. She stared out at the pounding sea below them. “What’s one more dead dragon here or there on my way to the throne?”

Morrowseer smiled. “Then we understand each other.”

“Give me the dragonets,” she said, “and we’ll both get everything we want.”